Song Changsheng wasn't old to begin with. He had only been in his early twenties when he broke through to Foundation Establishment, and by deliberately concealing his cultivation, he managed to look even younger than Song Qingluo.
Seeing Song Changsheng's inexperienced expression, the old man was inwardly delighted. 'This kind of rookie is the easiest to fool.' He cleared his throat and said in a deliberately mysterious tone, "You should know, my young friend, the items at my stall have quite the story behind them."
"Oh? Isn't this just a pile of junk? What kind of story could it have?" Song Changsheng channeled his inner award-winning actor, perfectly playing the part of a wet-behind-the-ears rookie.
The old man glanced around, then leaned in and whispered, "These are treasures from the ruins of an Ancient Battlefield. You know of the Ancient Battlefield, don't you, young friend? We're talking treasures from the Ancient Era."
